


Meeting the Maniac

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Gags, M/M, Top-Jim, Virgin Sherlock Holmes, blindfold, ropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22187611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Sherlock is bored. Jim wants to play. Weird, sexy, kinky things are going to happen.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

> This one also waited for a long time to go online. I always liked Sherlock and Jim together, no matter how. It somehow seemed right...

“For the love of God, Sherlock, get up and go places! Leave! You behave hellish right now!” John screamed at him. He had been insulted, harassed, pushed aside, and screamed at by Sherlock before.  
“I can’t go places, John. Nothing happens! Everything is boring!”  
“Go and see Molly and her inhabitants!” He pressed a cushion on his face murmuring:  
“I can’t do that! She threw me out the day before yesterday! She even threw a scalpel at me!”  
“Jesus, what did you do to her?” He peered over the edge.  
“I told her the new haircut looked ridiculous.”  
“You told Molly she looked ridiculous? No wonder she kicks your arse!”  
“But it’s true; I only saved her from being laughed at!” John loudly sighed and tried to read his newspaper. Some seconds later he listened to Sherlock’s toenails scratching over the leather of their sofa. He closed his eyes and breathed several times.  
“Sherlock! Please! Why don’t you call your brother? He always wants you to work for him!”  
“I am not James Bond, John.”  
“If it wouldn’t be illegal, I would like to sedate you, you know? Just shut up!” John’s voice made the difference now. It changed into parade ground sound which was something Sherlock understood. He had reached the end of John’s patience. He threw the cushion to the ground and turned his back on him.  
John looked at him. He could hardly imagine how he felt and even pitied him a bit.

***

Later that evening Sherlock still sulked on the sofa. He had done so for hours on end now. Nothing could cheer him up. He didn’t want to do an experiment; he didn’t want to have tea with Mrs Hudson. He didn’t even want to talk to Lestrade or insult someone else.  
He only knew what he didn’t want. Then his mobile dinged with a text message alert. And this time he knew better than to ask John to get it. He got up himself and walked over the coffee table. His dressing gown hung over his right shoulder and his hair stood up in all directions. He hadn’t bothered with brushing it today or getting dressed properly.  
He picked up his mobile and read the text. Then he read it again and gasped. John looked up.  
“What is it, Sherlock? Bad news?” He shook his head and came over.  
“No, John, not at all bad news! Look!” John took the mobile and read the text.

_“Come and meet me at your family’s crypt. I want to play. I am bored. XXX”  
JM_

“You can’t be serious, Sherlock. It’s dangerous!” John stood in front of him handing back the mobile.  
“It’s not boring!” He was excited and ran around in their living room.  
“I am coming along.”  
“No, you don’t.”  
“I will be calling both Lestrade and your brother, if you go all by yourself!”  
“Come on, John, don’t be boring.” He slowly approached him and smiled.  
“He doesn’t want to kill me; that would be boring. He would have no one to play with!” John shook his head.  
“No, you don’t go alone. I can’t let you. He could do something to you, you can't even think of now. He could torture you. He could ...” John really looked troubled now, but Sherlock didn't care.  
“Then I have no choice. I can't be bored anymore; I can't stand it! And you know what might happen if I am bored!” He threw the mobile in John’s direction and he instinctively grabbed it out of the air. Sherlock had successfully distracted him. Now he grabbed his wrist and strongly pulled moving around. Now he had John’s arm pressed up against his back. He had to bend down to avoid the pain.  
“Oi, Sherlock, stop that at once!” He only saw his legs and bare feet.  
“No, John, I won’t. You would come after me and I can’t have that. Moriarty won’t show up with you around.”  
“Sherlock, he will have snipers all over the place.”  
“I don’t care, he won’t harm me.” He moved John into his bedroom. He seriously wondered why he let him manhandle him like this. He was a soldier trained in close combat fighting. Then he got his answer.  
“Sherlock, let go at once. I don’t want to hurt you, but I would if you don’t!”  
“No, you wouldn’t, John.” John desperately pushed his head against Sherlock’s body, kicked his shin and stood on his foot. He really didn't want to hurt him. Much.  
“John, you wicked flatmate. That hurt!” It did hurt but he didn’t let go of his arm. He even moved it up some more.  
“Stop that right now!” He pushed John onto his bed straddling his waist and opened his bedside drawer. Being thrown face down on the bed, he had lost his advantage on Sherlock. Now John couldn’t see what he was taking, but then he felt the slight prick of an injection. He started to feel dizzy and became tired only a few seconds later.  
Sherlock looked down at John who was completely relaxed by now. He wasn’t unconscious but couldn’t move or react anymore. His pupils were completely dilated and he didn’t move at all when Sherlock moved him up on the bed. He took one of his older scarves out of his cupboard and tied his wrists to the headboard.  
“Thanks to Irene who gave me some of her wonderful drugs. It won’t harm him and he will be out of my way for a while. I can’t have him running by my side tonight.” He checked the bindings and then he took a shower. He brushed his hair and went through the whole bathroom procedure. Products and cologne and everything. When he left, he threw a last glance at John who rested limply on the duvet his wrists tied over his head. He wouldn’t be able to free himself; Sherlock knew everything about knots and where to place them so fingers wouldn’t be able to reach.  
Before he finally left, he checked on John again. He was deep under and didn’t react at all when he carefully touched him.  
Sherlock was a little bit worried what John would do when he woke up and met him again later. He would punch him probably. He knew John was worried because of his meeting with Moriarty. But he had to go, he was so bored.  
After one last look at John he just shrugged and left. He dashed down the stairs and hailed a cab pointing the way to a small cemetery. It took him about half an hour’s drive to get there. Meanwhile he texted back.

_“On my way now. Pleased not to be bored anymore. Had to get rid of my shadow.”  
SH_

_“Glad to hear that. I was worried.”  
JM_

_“What do you have in mind?”  
SH_

“Surprise!”  
 _JM_

Sherlock grinned. He was excited. When the cab finally arrived, he threw some notes at the driver and jumped out of the car. He pushed open the rusty gate and quickly walked over to his family’s crypt. It was located at the very end of the area. It was huge and made of marble. Now it was dirty and some ivy had grown all over the place.  
He slowly approached and once walked around. Moriarty wasn’t there. His mobile dinged.

_“Don’t be shy, it doesn’t suit you. Come inside.”  
JM_

Sherlock had always hated this place. The last time he had been inside the crypt had been after his father had committed suicide. He wasn’t afraid but he had weird feelings. He sighed but entered.  
“There you are, my dear. I was afraid you wouldn’t show up after getting no reply.” He stepped out of the shadows and came closer almost floating over the ground. Sherlock saw the few candles which had been lit to lighten up the place a bit. He looked at Moriarty.  
“Well, I already told you I had to get rid of John.”  
“Did he want to trot along as the ever-faithful pet he is?”  
“He is worried about me all the time.” He curiously looked up at him.  
“What did you do to him? What did you tell him so he stayed behind?”  
“I told him the truth. Afterwards I had to drug him. Then I tied him to my bed.”  
“He should be used to that, right?” Jim chuckled. Sherlock just returned the look clearly not understanding.  
“Why should he be used to being tied to my bed?”  
“Aren’t you too shagging each other?” He shook his head.  
“No, we don’t. Shag. Why does everyone assume so? He is my flatmate and completely not gay.”  
“But you are, aren’t you?” He tilted his head.  
“I feel attracted to men, if you mean that.”  
“You mean you don’t know if you are gay?” Sherlock shrugged.  
“Do you want to talk about sex or about the insane crimes you plan to accomplish?”  
“Can’t we do both? But actually, I don't want to _talk_ about sex ...” Moriarty moved closer to Sherlock, so they were almost touching now. Sherlock looked down and met his big, dark brown eyes. Moriarty winked at him and Sherlock grinned.  
“You are impossible!”  
“I am not boring.”  
“That’s true.” They didn’t move or lose eye contact. They stared into each other’s eyes for more than a minute.  
Then suddenly Moriarty grabbed Sherlock’s coat and pulled him down and close. He pressed his lips on Sherlock’s mouth.  
Sherlock’s arms were wide apart and he was shell-shocked. The feeling in his gut was intense. There still was no fear, but something else, something entirely else. He had no idea, but it wasn’t boring.  
He felt Moriarty’s mouth open over his lips and his tongue poking. He followed the direction and opened up for him. He heard Moriarty’s moaning and felt his arms around his shoulders. Slowly his own arms came down and he self-consciously placed his hands Moriarty's back. He tilted his head a bit to make it easier for him.  
His tongue kept moving around his own and explored his mouth, licking over his gum and teeth, almost fucking him this way. One hand moved up into his hair and twisted some strands pulling him down forcefully so he could bite into his neck. Now it was Sherlock’s turn to moan. He had no idea that kissing could be like that. Obviously, he had done it wrong when he tried the few times at university ages ago.  
This was definitely not boring. He wanted more.   
He pushed him back against a sarcophagus and pressed him down. He moved between his legs. He felt his cock pressed against him. Now this was beginning to be really interesting.  
Moriarty let go of his neck and looked up at him.  
“You like it so far?” He licked his lips.  
“What do you think?” Sherlock’s brows moved up.  
“Do you want it?” He asked.  
“Want what?” Sherlock seriously had no clue.  
“Us to have sex.” Moriarty replied almost losing his patience by now.  
“Here?” Sherlock sounded annoyed.  
“Yes.” Moriarty hissed and just crushed his lips against Sherlock’s and this time it was more biting. He bit into his lower lip and pulled. Sherlock followed and hovered above him. Moriarty’s hands got hold of his coat and moved it over his shoulders. It fell on the dirty floor. Next, he ripped open his black shirt and buttons flew everywhere.  
Sherlock was surprised and his hands clutched at the other man’s hips who in the meantime sat on the damp stone in front of him. Jim's palms stroked over his bare chest and his fingers started to tease his nipples. Sherlock threw his head back and groaned loudly.  
“A little pain it is then.” Now he pinched them and pulled. Sherlock was panting and stood unmoving in front of Moriarty. His body reacted in its own way. Finally, he even sucked them, licked around, and bit them. Now he was trembling and his legs started to shake violently. Moriarty hopped off and turned him around leaning him against the sarcophagus.  
“Don’t move, pet.” Sherlock couldn’t, even if he wanted. He watched Moriarty take his coat and spread it on the ground. Then he moved him down on his knees.  
Moriarty stood in front of him now and slowly opened his trousers. Sherlock’s gaze was focused on his crotch. He licked his lips. Now Moriarty moved his prick over his cheeks and lips and at the end pushed it inside his mouth.  
Sherlock was overwhelmed. He smelled James Moriarty. He smelled like musky man, wild and sinful, rough, and forceful like an animal. Sherlock was heavenly aroused.  
“Use your tongue and hold on to my thighs. Don’t worry, I will tell you what to do.” Sherlock’s hands were on his thighs at once and he started to lick around the head and wherever he could reach. He could hear Moriarty’s heavy breathing and moaning.  
“Suck it deeper!” Moriarty ordered. Instantly Sherlock hollowed his cheeks and sucked like he would an ice-cream cone. His well-built member fully disappeared inside his mouth and touched his throat. He couldn’t suppress his gag reflex, couldn’t breathe. He clutched at the fabric of his trousers.  
“Try to relax. Breath through your nose. Go ahead and suck and swallow.” He held him in place and pushed some more. Tears began to flow out of his eyes, but he could breathe again. He was yearning to touch himself, but it wasn’t his turn now. Moriarty twisted his hair with his fists.  
“Very good, I knew it. You are fantastic; the perfect cock slut.” And he continued to push down Sherlock’s throat who didn’t mind at all being treated like this. On the contrary; the more Moriarty said the more he was turned on. How the hell did he know what he himself didn’t?  
Finally, Moriarty screamed loudly and came bucking wildly into Sherlock’s mouth. He gave no warning, so Sherlock was taken by surprise and couldn’t manage the amount of cum rushing down his throat. He swallowed what he could but some trickled out of his mouth and over his chin.  
Moriarty pulled out and said:  
“To make it a hundred points you have to lick it clean, Sherlock. You want to be perfect for me, don’t you?” He nodded and started to lick everywhere he could reach. When he was done, he looked up at him expectantly. He moved his finger over his chin and held it before his lips. He licked that clean, too.  
“Now, what do you say being a good boy?” That made him wake up a bit. He straightened his body and tried to stand up.  
“What?” Sherlock gaped. Moriarty pushed him back down on his coat and jumped right after rubbing his crotch against his prick. Sherlock fell back hard and felt absolutely defenceless when his dick was pressed down by the weight of Moriarty. Wild dark eyes looked down at him.  
“Turn around, Sherlock!” He whispered dangerously and Sherlock obeyed. Moriarty grabbed his wrists and brought them together at his lower back.  
“Again, pet. What do you say?” Sherlock didn’t reply since he had problems guessing the rules and finding the appropriate answer. Moriarty took some strands of his longish hair and strongly pulled his head up. He hissed at the pain but liked it a lot, both at the same time. His mind was a mess. The restrained breathing didn’t help.  
“Now! Tell me! Or do I have to print out the rules? Pet?” He shook his head tearing some hair off his scalp and Sherlock started to drool.  
“Answer me, Sherlock!” Finally, his mind came up with the solution.  
“Thank you.” He whispered hoarsely.  
“Show some respect, pet!” He shook him again and pulled him further back up by his hair.  
“Thank you, Sir!” Now he raked his fingernails over his scalp.  
“Very good, Sherlock, very good.” Sherlock laid panting beneath him on his coat. He was still rock hard and he felt like he had never felt before. It was almost like floating in the water. Warm water. Peaceful. His mind was quiet. He desperately needed more.  
“Please …” He moaned into the coat and his head was pulled up again.  
“What did you say?”  
“Please, I need it. Please give it to me!”  
“Again with the respect?” He pulled him up both by the hair and his wrists. He groaned loudly.  
“Please, give it to me, Sir! Please, Sir!” Now he shouted the words and rutted against the ground.  
“As you wish, Sherlock, but none of that.” Sherlock felt one hand moving away and then something metal and cold against his wrists. A pair of handcuffs was attached to his wrists and closed firmly. He was turned on his side and he opened his trousers. His fingers touched his boxers and pulled both down his legs. He toed of his shoes by himself and the rest of his clothing was thrown to the side. Now he laid fully naked in front of James Moriarty.  
He breathed open-mouthed and so did he. They looked at each other until Moriarty started to bite his nipples again. His cock twitched and he leaked pre-cum on his coat.  
“Oh, we can’t have that now. You are not to come without me telling you, Sherlock!” He got out a silicone cock-ring and pulled it over his erection. It hardly fit but he made it. Sherlock whined but didn’t resist. He only wondered what more was to come.  
“Get on your knees and spread your legs.” Sherlock did as being told. His shoulders slumped down when being pushed and his cheek was pressed on the ground rubbing against the inside of his coat.  
Moriarty coated his finger with Sherlock’s cum. Sherlock technically knew what to expect, but his body still cringed when he felt being touched behind his testicles.  
“Relax, pet. I won’t hurt you. Much.” Sherlock could hear him grin. He tried to give in, but it wasn’t easy. Moriarty moved on and started to rim him. He felt him move closer and spread his cheeks with his thumbs. Sherlock stopped breathing when Moriarty spat onto his hole.  
“You are filthy, Jim Moriarty.” He got bitten into one cheek for that.  
“Yes, I am, but I can see that you like it, don’t you, slut?” He gave no reply. He slapped him hard.  
“Yes, I like it, Sir!” It came out rather quietly this time, but it came.  
“Very good, pet, very good.” He spat again and slowly moved his fingertip over his opening. Sherlock clenched and ground his teeth. His eyes were tightly closed and he panted. One hand started to fondle his testicles and he writhed beneath the touch. Slowly he began to relax and Jim was able to press the fingertip inside.  
“You really are a virgin. It’s true then.” Moriarty was in awe finding out. Finally, he had enough and took out some lube he had brought, too. He dripped some directly onto his hole and some on his finger. Then he pressed again and disappeared up to the second knuckle.  
Sherlock moaned and moved his behind. He started to like it, it felt good. He had had no idea. Jim pushed in all the way and out again.  
“No!” Sherlock’s head came up and Jim pushed two fingers in. Sherlock shut up and fell down again. Now Moriarty started to touch his prostate and Sherlock screamed.  
“Oh God! Oh God! Jim! Please! Again!” Jim grinned and held down the bucking man.  
“Did you never touch yourself?” He moved his head over the fabric not being able to talk.  
“Tell me what you need, Sherlock!”  
“I need you to touch me like you just did. I need you to kiss me again. I want you to touch my nipples again! Please! Sir, please?”  
“Oh, believe me; I will make it good for you, Sherlock.” He stuck three fingers inside him now and pushed up and down until he started to howl like a wolf at the full moon. Moriarty stroked over his prostate with every push and pull.  
“Please, Sir, please, God, oh God!” Sherlock whimpered weakly moving his body everywhere he could but being held down by Moriarty.  
“Since you are very well behaved now, you will get a reward, pet. Just hold on.” He pulled out and cleaned his fingers on his boxers. Then he started to rummage in a bag, Sherlock could hear that. Then he felt something big being pressed against his hole. Due to the preparation and some lube it slipped in quite easily; at least for the first part. Moriarty carefully moved the thing a bit deeper and Sherlock moaned and clenched.  
“Move it some more! Go ahead!” And he did and inside it was until only the handle was showing.  
“You are topping from the bottom, Sherlock. I can’t have this. As much as I love the noises you make, you responsive thing, I have to stop that.” He pulled him up so he sat on his heels. His vision was blurry and he didn’t understand what Moriarty meant.  
Well, not until he pressed his fingers into his cheeks and forced his jaw open only to shove the huge silicone penis shaped gag inside his mouth. He shook his head no, but Moriarty had already buckled it tightly behind his neck catching some hair between the straps.  
Sherlock’s lips were obscenely stretched over the thing. Moriarty looked down at him.  
“Pet, you are adorable. You are made for this.” He kissed him on the head and Sherlock made noises which were completely ignored. He picked up the shirt and tore it apart. Taking one sleeve he tied his ankles and used the second sleeve to tie his knees together. He tore some more fabric and bound his wrists to his ankles having him into a beautiful hog-tie. Sherlock moaned deeply when his shoulders were strained and started to rut his cock on his coat. Moriarty made him lie down on his side again.  
Sherlock moved like a snake on the floor looking desperately up at Moriarty who shook his head no.  
“No, Sherlock. You have to learn where you belong.” He put his foot on his hip and pushed him on his back. The handcuffs pressed brutally in his back and tightened to the extreme around his wrists. His long legs were half under him and pressed between his body and the floor. It hurt but it also didn't.  
Sherlock closed his eyes and whimpered behind the gag when his tender skin was caught. The plug inside his butt moved, too, and touched his already sensitive prostate. He keened. His tied arms and legs were strained strongly and he started to cry and wail. But still he enjoyed it; perhaps a bit too much. He liked the combination of pain, fear, frustration, and lust.  
Moriarty knelt by his side and swung a chain before his eyes. The chain had clamps which he attached to his still erect nipples. Now he started to cry and sob even more. His nipples seemed to be very sensitive. He drooled behind the gag and snot ran out of his nose. He trembled all over and his thighs twitched. Moriarty checked on his prick. He was still hard as a rock and both his cock and testicles were showing a beautiful shade of purple. It must hurt by now. Moriarty smiled and stroked over his dick. Sherlock screamed behind his gag and shook in his restrains. Now he stroked slowly over his abdomen and he simply moaned and cried all the time. He was bucking up trying to reach more of Moriarty but he moved back every single time. Sherlock weakened himself, but he couldn’t stop until he was a writhing mess on his dirty coat.  
“Look at me, Sherlock!” He obeyed and looked up at Moriarty who was holding something up. It looked like some remote control. Then he thumbed it and the thing inside him began to vibrate against his prostate. Sherlock screamed his lungs out and his body shook violently.  
Sherlock was on the edge of orgasm, but he couldn't because of the cock ring. He desperately pleaded through his eyes, but Moriarty just returned the stare and kept watching him. He was hard again. Finally, he knelt beside him and bent his head close to Sherlock. He whispered:  
“Do you want me to fuck you, Sherlock?” He nodded his response wildly.  
“Nnnggghhhh ...” He produced some noises behind his gag and drooled strongly.  
“I hoped so, pet.” He cut off the fabric between his wrists and ankles and pulled Sherlock up on his knees again tearing apart the rest of his shirt. Then he blindfolded him. Sherlock wailed. Moriarty extracted the plug and positioned himself behind Sherlock bending him down. He held by at the hips and lined his head up against his hole. He had lubed himself before he started to push. Sherlock threw his head back and panted. His flanks were shivering and the muscles in his abdomen twitched when Moriarty moved his knuckles over them.  
Then he pushed once and grabbed his hips so that bruises were likely to appear soon. He was buried deep to the hilt inside Sherlock who screamed at the top of his lungs and just collapsed in his embrace. He fucked him fast and hard and he started to move back at once. His hands were into fists and his fingernails cut into his palms leaving bloody half-moon marks.  
He still held him with one arm and the other moved down to remove the cock ring. He stroked his cock once, squeezed his testicles and then pulled at the chain attached to the nipple clamps. Sherlock came with wide spurts all over himself and his coat. Some of his cum even reached his face. Just a few seconds later Moriarty came deep inside Sherlock and shot his cum into him. He had closed his eyes and listened to Sherlock’s restrained breathing. He felt his limp body under him and once tweaked his earlobe. There was no response coming from Sherlock, he was unconscious.

***

When Sherlock woke up it was still dark around him. He remembered his forceful orgasm. He never had experienced something like this before. Not cocaine or any other drugs had given him such a high. He had been fucked into oblivion by James Moriarty. When passing out he saw blinding lights and his brain was empty. It had been fantastic. He either had to see him regularly or find somebody else doing these things to him. He needed to experiment with the sex.  
He tried to move and found he was still tied up and gagged and blindfolded. He made some noises behind his gag and turned his head from side to side.  
„Oh, someone is awake! My pet has come to!“ He placed a hand on his head and Sherlock calmed down.  
„Did you like it, Sherlock?“ He nodded wildly and listened to him chuckling.  
„Well, I did, too. I think I will be back to you. I am not bored anymore. Are you?“ He shook his head no. Moriarty stroked through his hair and moved his palms over his chest and abdomen. He turned him face down again and pressed a little key into his hand.  
„Be careful not to drop this. It's the key for the handcuffs. I will leave you now. Take care!“ Sherlock struggled in his bonds making desperate noises.  
„Well, I can't simply untie you, can I? That would be insanely boring!“ He laughed wildly and paced though the crypt. But then he came back again.  
„Oh, I don't want you to become bored when I am gone. That's why this goes on again!“ He felt his hands on his arse and the vibrator was shoved inside again. And Sherlock felt the vibrations teasing his prostate. He needed all his strength to hold on to the key.  
„I set it on a changing mode so you just have to wait until it slows down and then you can try and free yourself! Have fun without me, pet! Laters!“ Then he left for good.


	2. Going Home

Sherlock listened to the closing door and the fading steps of one James fucking Moriarty. Bugger! How he hated him. But he should have expected something like this. He held on to the little key and waited for the vibrations to slow down. He had no idea how long the battery inside would last. He suffered through two circles of repeated vibrations and knew the lowest by then.  
It took him many trials, and several times he dropped the key panicking every time. He couldn't breathe properly and his wrists were sore and probably bleeding. But he finally made it. The key turned and the cuffs opened. He moved and wriggled and spread his arms in every possible direction to get his blood flowing. His arms shook violently when he took off the blindfold. He needed several minutes to unbuckle the straps of the gag because his hands and fingers trembled badly. He coughed loudly and carefully started to breathe properly.  
The candles around him had burnt down to the last third. He felt like all this had lasted a lot longer. He looked down at the cruel gag and felt his cock twitch again. Then he untied his legs and ankles. When completely freed he turned sideways and very carefully felt for the plug. He pulled and slowly extracted it. His hole clenched and twisted and felt wide. Cum dripped out of him and leaked down his thighs. He felt absolutely filthy but was turned on anyway.  
Turning himself on hands and knees he now tried to get up. It worked only the second time but finally he stood. He looked around and found his dirty boxers only to drop them. They were sticky from his pre-cum and Moriarty had used them to clean himself.  
He picked up his socks and trousers and put them on. He found his shoes and slipped into those, too. His shirt was torn to pieces. He picked it up anyway and looked sadly at the shredded fabric. Then his eyes wandered over to his coat still spread out on the ground. He swallowed and lifted it up. It was sticky on the inside because he had not only rutted against it but come, both he and Moriarty. It was dusty on the outside because it had been on the ground for quite a time. He shook it several times and just had no choice since he was half naked. He put it on and felt through the pockets. He found his mobile and his wallet.  
In the half-dark he stumbled over the bag Moriarty had brought with him. A note was attached to it:

_“Dearest pet, I didn’t use everything I brought. Bring it next time. xxx”  
JM_

He went through the bag and found several metres of rope, more cuffs, a spreader bar, a paddle, and a riding crop. Now he was hard again. He bagged the handcuffs and the gag and even his torn shirt and dirty boxers. He buttoned up his coat and looked around for his scarf. He found it on the sarcophagus and there was the remote, as well. The scarf was the only thing except for his socks and shoes which wasn’t icky. He slung it around his neck and picked up the bag. When he walked over to the door, he stepped on the plug and almost fell. He caught himself and swore loudly.  
“Why couldn’t he clean up this mess? Why did he leave me behind? Fuck! I am falling over my own torture devices! Fuck!” Sherlock rarely used the F-word, but now he was excited and so much aroused. He palmed himself through his trousers and his prick pressed against the zip. He needed to get home quickly. He needed John.  
“Fuck!” He sighed again.  
“John will kill me when I get home. He should at least be fully awake by now. If I am lucky, he didn’t make it to untie himself and I can catch him before. I need to hurry.” He threw the plug into the bag. He ran through the stones and angels and out onto the street. It was later in the evening now and all dark. Lampposts were rare over here and he kept on running to the next corner where he was able to hail a cab.  
The cabbie looked him up and down but Sherlock showed him his money. He drove him back home to 221B and looked quite relieved when he left his car. Sherlock hurried up the stairs and listened carefully before he opened the door. He could hear nothing.  
He stepped inside and looked around. He quietly closed the door and left the bag inside the living-room. Now he needed to see John. He listened again and he could hear him swearing and breathing.  
He swallowed and opened the door to his bedroom. John looked up at him still being tied to the headrest. His face was red and he obviously was very, very angry.  
“Sherlock, you bloody wanker! Get me off of here right now! Fuck! I swear I am going to rough you up badly!” Sherlock came closer and loosened the scarf.  
“John, I needed to go!” John lowered his arms slowly and hissed. Carefully Sherlock took his wrists and started to massage him. John looked down and saw Sherlock’s sore and bloodied wrists.  
“Fuck, Sherlock! What happened? What did he do to you? Let me see!” He tried to get up but fell back. He was still dizzy.  
“Here, have some water, John.” He quickly walked back into their kitchen to get a cool bottle of water.  
“Thank you.” He emptied the bottle in one go. Then he took his wrists and held them looking him over. He saw his state of arousal and his crusty hair. He felt his pulse and it was quick.  
“Will you please tell me, if you are hurt someplace else?”  
“I am not hurt.”  
“Tell me what he did to you!”  
“It was not boring.” John sighed.  
“Please, Sherlock! This is important! I could forget about you drugging me and tying me up and leaving me behind, because right now you look disturbed. Your shirt is gone. You are bruised. Your coat looks hellish. If you don’t explain everything so I can understand, I will make you!” Sherlock looked him into the eyes when his grip around his wrists hardened. He hissed.  
“And how would you do that, John?”  
“Do you honestly want to know?”  
“Yes.”  
“So, you aren’t going to tell me a bit?”  
“I am telling you that I had to go because otherwise my brain would have exploded. I needed a diversion.”  
“And so you went to meet James Moriarty to do what exactly?” Sherlock looked down and didn’t reply. Patiently John waited and moved his thumbs slowly over his hands.  
“We had sex.” John’s grip tightened painful.  
“What?” He shouted.  
“Ow, John, you are hurting me!”  
“Well, obviously pain helps you to get distracted. You want me to help you with that?” And he shook him grabbing his upper arms.  
“That’s why I need to talk to you. I can’t really trust him. But I do trust you.” John stopped the shaking.  
“You want me to hurt you, so you are not bored anymore? Are you fucking insane, Sherlock?”  
“What else is there I could try? And you having violent sex with me is better than cocaine.”  
“And better than Moriarty.”  
“Well, we don’t know that yet, do we, John?” He wickedly smiled at John.  
“Why didn’t you talk to me about this before? I could have helped you.”  
“I was never interested in this before. I never had sex before. Everything was new. If I knew, I would have asked, really.”  
“The first time you had sex and you did it with him?” John looked shaken.  
“I was overwhelmed, I felt great. I didn’t want to stop. And later on, I wasn’t able to stop.”  
“What?” Again, he looked at his wrists.  
“Oh …”  
“Yes, but he didn’t force me. I consented. I had a fucking good time, John. And I want more.”  
“We definitely have to talk about it. But I will take care of your bruises first. Stay here and I get my stuff.” He got up and turned around again.  
“Or better go and have a shower. You are covered in filthy, crusty shit, Sherlock.” Sherlock blushed.  
“My coat has to be cleaned, too.”  
“I don’t ask.”  
“My shirt has been torn apart.”  
“I don’t ask.”  
“All my clothes were ruined except for my socks and shoes. And I brought all the stuff he had with him back home.”  
“I will look at these things later. Shower first, then first aid, last the things. Move, Sherlock!” He pointed at the door and Sherlock got up.  
“Yes, John.”


	3. Inspiration

John picked up the envelope from the floor when he got home from A&E a few days later. It was addressed to him and the sender was James Moriarty. John curiously turned it around in his hands. He felt something hard and small inside. He shrugged and climbed up the stairs. The door was open but Sherlock wasn’t at home.  
He hung up his coat and made tea. He got rid of his shoes and socks and walked barefooted to the fireplace to sit down. He carefully opened the envelope and a data stick fell out taped to a piece of paper.

_“Dear John, dear Sherlock! Of course I filmed everything! I had a good time and I know you had, too, Sherlock. John, I don’t want you to be left out. Have fun!”  
JM_

“Fuck him!” He turned the data stick between his fingers and thought about it for several minutes. Sherlock had told him what happened. But watching it was different and John was curious. He couldn’t resist and stuck the stick into his laptop.  
He saw candles burning and the camera focused on Sherlock when he entered the crypt. Later both of them could be watched right in the middle of the screen. How did Moriarty do that? Some motion detector attached to the camera? Or had somebody else been there all the time? He had no idea.  
He watched Sherlock doing all the filthy things. Then he looked at all the things being done to him. It took him only a few minutes until he was rock hard. Now he really knew that it turned him on. He had picked up the rules a bit late, but pick them up he did.  
“I can work with that; I really can, my dear.” He whispered to himself watching him struggle with the key after Moriarty had left. The film stopped only after Sherlock had left the crypt. John breathed open-mouthed and palmed his erection through his trousers.  
“OK, bitch, you better come home right now.” He extracted the data stick and shut down his laptop. He walked into his room and rummaged through his toys because he didn’t want to use Moriarty’s leftovers. He was only pleased when he had taken several metres of bondage rope, a ball gag, a leather blindfold, electric nipple clamps and cock-ring, several plugs, and cuffs. He placed all that on the bed and walked back into the living-room.

***

Sherlock returned about two hours later looking a bit stressed. He threw his freshly cleaned clothes over his chair and slumped down.  
“Lestrade was lying to me, John!” He complained.  
“Why would he do that?” John knew how to respond to coax the answers out.  
“He told me he had an interesting case and that it wasn’t boring! But it was! I only needed ten bloody minutes to solve it!”  
“What took you so long then?”  
“I had some hope Molly would have forgiven me and walked into the morgue. But she slapped my face and threw me out, John. You have to talk to her!” Sherlock ordered.  
“I could do that, Sherlock.” Sherlock continued complaining.  
“Afterwards I even checked Anderson’s lab, but he found me going through his evidence and threatened me with a confiscated weapon. He was really furious! Then I left and ran around a bit.”  
“And you smoked!” A reproachful look was sent and Sherlock had to admit that he did smoke.  
“Yes, but only three fags. Then I decided to come back home and have sex with you!” He stood up and looked expectantly. John looked at him and smiled thinly.  
“Well, I had interesting mail today. Or let’s say we both had.” He handed him the note and Sherlock grinned viciously.  
“Did you like what you saw?” John pointed downwards and Sherlock stared at the bulge.  
“It’s rather obvious, isn’t it?” Sherlock stepped closer and dropped on his knees in front of John. He lowered his head and mouthed over the fabric. He kissed through it and pressed down until he got a response.  
“Fuck, Sherlock! Stop that right now!” Sherlock had his open mouth right on the zip and he looked up at him. He didn't make a move and John calmed down a bit. He sat up.  
“Well, you are eager to impress. I like that. Stay!” He ordered calmly and Sherlock behaved. John got up and quickly got some of his toys downstairs. He had no idea why but the idea of having him down here was arousing.  
“Undress for me!” Sherlock obeyed instantly and buttoned down his shirt and dropped it. He was aroused by now, too.  
Only a minute later Sherlock was on the floor leaning on his elbows looking up at John. John. His ever-faithful pet, coming along all the time helping him, being worried about him, and now ordering him about. God, how he loved that!  
“Get up and turn your back on me!” Sherlock did as being told and started to tremble. He felt John step up behind him. He felt the wool of his over worn jumper scratch at his back. His breath felt hot against him. And finally, he felt his hands move over his skin.  
John reached around his chest and his nimble fingers touched his nipples. Sherlock twitched at once and moaned. John took his nipples between his fingers and pressed down. Sherlock threw his head back and started panting. His nipples were long and erect by now.  
“You are very responsive, Sherlock. I like that a lot! Now get down on your knees.” Sherlock did.  
He heard John walk around and come back. He grabbed his neck.  
“Drop on your hands and crawl!” His fist grabbed his hair and pulled him forward. He cried out; he hadn't expected this. He started to move under him. He felt the pull forward and followed.  
John held on to his hair all the way to his bedroom. He had to stay on his hands and knees. It was weird, but he made it finally into his room. He was moved right up to his bed and knelt before the end. His knees were burning by now from shovelling over the carpet. His scalp was on fire because John had pulled him inside by his hair. He was in heaven.  
“Very well, Sherlock. Now stand in front of your bed facing me.” He did as being told and looked at him.  
John looked him up and down considering his next moves. He should ask him and so he did.  
“Sherlock, what did you like?” Surprise showed on his face.  
“Everything he did. Except that he left me being tied up.”  
“I suppose you thought about what happened. Could you think of something more?” Sherlock swallowed and looked at the wall.  
“I wondered about being hit; about more pain distracting me. It worked quite well. I liked to be tied up, gagged and blindfolded. I googled some more gags. I saved the pictures on your computer, John. I liked being penetrated. I liked it ...” He looked at John now who nodded.  
“OK, then. What is your safe-word?” Sherlock looked irritated.  
“Safe-word?” Now John was confused.  
“Yes, safe-word. The word you are going to use when it is too much to bear. I will stop at once.”  
“I don't need it. I trust you.” John shook his head.  
“No, no, no. Tell me your safe-word or nothing will happen.”  
“Sussex.” John looked at him thinking.  
“OK, then. Sussex it is.” He saw his twitching fingers and flicking eyes.  
“Come down, Sherlock. Everything will be just fine in a few.” He deeply inhaled and exhaled.  
“Proceed then. Please, John. I need it.” He looked desperate. His eyes were pleading. John didn't need to think anymore. He knew, he would use all this toys tonight. He thinly smiled and said:  
“OK, Sherlock. Let's play.” He looked him up and down again.  
“Kneel!” He suddenly ordered and Sherlock fell down on his knees at once.  
“Spread your legs for me, bitch, and hands behind your head!” He did that, too. John stepped up close and touched his testicles with his foot. He pressed a bit and Sherlock moaned lowering his hands.  
“Hands behind your head!” John snapped and he did as being told twisting his fingers in his own hair. John moved his foot around a bit and Sherlock groaned and shivered falling back on his heels. The feeling of humiliation, the feeling of being looked and checked up like this was intense and made him feel hot. He had to close his eyes.  
“None of that! Get up again! Wait!” Sherlock obeyed watching John leave his bedroom. His parade ground voice still was echoing inside his head. He listened to him moving about and then he returned with his arms full of stuff. He dropped everything in front of Sherlock who just looked and swallowed.  
“Go and pick your own predicament, Sherlock.” He shivered and looked at the wicked things John brought. He had no idea what to do and didn't. John waited for about three minutes, but Sherlock didn't make a move or even lowered his hands again.  
“I choose for you then, your own fault. Lower your hands now and cross your wrists behind your back. Turn around.” Sherlock did and his mind blissfully tuned out.  
John tied his arms so his hands touched his elbows. The rope went over his neck, crossed over and under his nipples and armpits. A second rope was tied around both his prick and testicles and back to his arms.  
John walked around him and stayed at his back. Sherlock didn't move.  
“On your knees!” He ordered him again and at once he dropped down hard on the hardwood floor.  
“Spread your legs!” Sherlock moved his knees to the side.  
“Wider!” John used his foot to help. Then he blindfolded him with the leather mask and tied it tightly behind his head. His breathing stopped for a second.  
Then he picked up a gag. It was quite a huge ball-gag. But after he had watched the video Moriarty had provided, he knew what Sherlock could take. He just touched his jaw and he opened up taking it behind his teeth. His lips closed around the ball-gag and he started to moan at once. Finally, John attached another rope to tie his ankles together and led it up to his arms. He was being held in that position, couldn’t get up or move away. He keened and started to tremble a bit.  
“Oh, you are made for this, Sherlock. You look amazing!” Sherlock started to sway with the praise making senseless noises.  
Now John took the riding crop and stroked the tip over his chest. Since Sherlock was who he was, he knew what to expect and straightened up. John took aim and hit his body several times. Bruises and welts formed quickly and his body shook.  
He made no desperate moves, so John continued his administrations. After he had lapped up all the blood trickling down, he undid the rope between ankles and arms. He made him get up and stand on his tied legs moving him face down on the bed. He drooled rather badly and snot ran out of his nose. John wiped it off.  
“Lift up your bum!” So he did. John admired the view watching the shaking limbs. He took some lube and started to rim him. His index finger moved between his cheeks and stroked over his clenching hole. He heard him moan.  
Finally, he pushed his finger in. When he saw how easily it fit, he did two. Sherlock had relaxed for him. He started to move over his prostate making him buckle. He hit him once on his thighs and he stopped. He made it three fingers and raked against his walls. The noises were amazing, both of them must be in heaven.  
He felt for his cock and he was leaking pre-cum all over. He squeezed his testicles several times and then tightened the rope around both prick and testicles some more. Sherlock keened and wriggled.  
“None of that!” John said and cuffed his ankles, knees, and thighs. He pulled up his ankles as much as possible. As soon as he heard a restrained breath he stopped and attached a rope going up and around his neck. He carefully shoved him onto his side.  
“I really want to see how long you can stand. Won't you?” He lubed up a vibrating plug and pushed it inside. He pushed the remote and Sherlock screamed behind his gag. He set it on changing and settled down to watch him. He really couldn’t do more than shiver at this point. He was all tied up and helpless, he was blind and unable to speak. His breath was restrained and his face showed a darker shade of red. He moved him over so he could reach his nipples. He kissed them, teased them, bit them. All the time he listened to the noises Sherlock made.  
He piled up the pillows and some blankets he found and pulled him up. He straddled him and Sherlock’s legs were bent awkwardly under his body and his head was pulled back by the rope leading down to his ankles. John had loosened the rope between his neck and ankles but his throat was still exposed. John thought he must be doing yoga or what not to be that flexible. Then he unbuckled the ball-gag. Sherlock licked his lips and coughed. John held up a bottle and Sherlock drank greedily. Then he just sat on him and waited. So did Sherlock. Finally, Sherlock spoke.  
“John?” His voice was hoarse. John just watched him fidgeting for several minutes. Then he moved and Sherlock tensed. He tensed until he felt John's cock on his lips. He opened up at once and gave him a once over licking everywhere he could. When he felt John placing his cock strategically, he sucked it in and hollowed his cheeks. He did this several times hoping to get any response. But he didn't. Heat swelled up and something else. Why couldn't he please his John?  
He felt desperate and choked. He turned his head to the side and let go of his cock. He started to cry and moved his head slowly from left to right. His lips were tightly pressed together.  
He felt John's fingers move over his face and jaw but he didn't say a word. His fingers moved tenderly over his lips and he kissed him again. He sobbed; he didn't understand.  
John soothed him. Then he pressed two fingers against his lips and Sherlock opened up again. He sucked them in and licked all over them and between.  
“OK, OK. Stop it and let go.” He did and felt something else against his mouth. Metal bars forced his jaw open. The gag was strapped around his head and fastened cruelly. His mouth was forced open and he started panting at once.  
He felt being pulled upwards and awkwardly knelt in front of John being tied rather brutally. But he managed. He failed before and he wanted to please his John now. He could smell him; smell his sex, his musky, wonderful smell. Then he heard John move in front of him. He heard flesh on flesh and could hear him, too.  
He masturbated in front of him, kept moaning and panting. Sherlock imagined himself being tied up in front of John. John, who got off watching him being forced down like this. He started to wriggle his tongue and heard John groan. Then he came with wild spurts all over him. Most of it reached his open mouth and Sherlock swallowed what he could get.  
He hurt. He badly wanted to come, too, but he couldn't. His cock was restrained and he was tied up. He made begging noises and moved his hips. He could feel John; hear John move close to him. Then John's hands were over his prick loosening the rope around it and his testicles. He felt his fingers stroking him and needed only seconds to come. The noises he made were more of the gurgling side with his mouth forced open like this.  
John milked him dry. He felt sore and he hurt almost everywhere. But it wasn’t bad since his brain was emptied. It was all blurry inside him and he saw white lights, no flashing but fog swirling inside his head. It was nice and he just kept floating.  
It took him minutes to come back and only then he realised that John had untied him completely, had even pulled him up and kept shaking him. He was even talking. He looked at him with his eyes still half closed.  
He weakly reached up and his fingertip touched his jaw. His expression was different from before. He looked worried, even troubled.  
„Sherlock? You there? Can you hear me?“ He drowsily smiled.  
„Ooowww cooossshhhh mca heee yuuu.“ He slurred. John had never heard such noises from him. Nothing was left from his posh public-school accent he sometimes very much hated. This wasn't even a proper language.  
„Jesus, Sherlock, you scared me to death when shutting down!“ Sherlock was clueless.  
„Yuuuu ooorrrrriieehhhhddddddd ...“ He hid his face in John's abdomen and slumped again.  
„Yes, fuck, I am worried. I thought I hurt you too much. I thought ...“ His body started to shake and hot tears fell on Sherlock’s head.  
„Fiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllllllllll gooood, Shonn!“ John sobbed and reached around Sherlock’s body for the Kleenex box on his night-stand. He blew his nose and then just held him close and listened to his ragged breathing.

***

When Sherlock woke up again it was dark. His head rested on John and his body was all over the bed. John was pushed up on the pillows and on his side. Sherlock hurt all over but he felt fantastic. He remembered the aftermath and the worry and sadness in John's eyes. He looked down at him and saw dried tears and a blotchy face. He slowly got up and pulled John down to the side of the bed covering his body with the duvet. He didn't wake. Sherlock slumped out of his room and into the kitchen to drink some water. He even found some cookies. He leant against the counter and nibbled them. He drank more water. Then he went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. He looked well shagged. His hair was completely dishevelled and he still had some sort of a red face.  
He knew he had to convince John to repeat their play. John was worried now he had gone too far. But Sherlock had liked it a lot. He had zoned out for quite a time, lost his ability of speech, lost almost every ability he had. He had perhaps even been unconscious for a while, he wasn't sure.  
He brushed his teeth and returned to his bedroom. He found John had been moving around a bit as if feeling for him. He was now right in the middle of the bed. Sherlock climbed under the duvet and shoved him a bit to the side. He mumbled something and kept on moving. Sherlock slung his arms around his chest and pulled him up close. He calmed down and clutched at Sherlock’s arms. He made some moaning sounds and fell asleep again.  
Sherlock nuzzled into his hair and closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep but he liked to hold John like this. He put one leg over his and held him tight. John sighed and pressed back in his sleep. Sherlock slowly drove his fingertips over his skin and stared into the dark.


	4. Jealousy

James Moriarty texted Sherlock about a fortnight later. He had no idea about the things which had been going on in 221B after he had left him in the crypt. He had to leave the country to take care of several business transactions meaning crimes in Russia. When he returned, he wanted to continue their game. He had sent the data stick to John and Sherlock so John would be offended, disgusted and what not. He sent a text.

_“Hi love! I am back and I want to see you! Come and play! Same place tonight!”  
JM_

_“As much as I liked the little game of ours, Jim, but I am playing with John now exclusively. I am sorry.”  
SH_

_“You owe me! Big time!”  
JM_

_“What do you want, Jim?”  
SH_

_“One more time.”  
JM_

_“OK.”  
SH_

_“Tomorrow night. Crypt. Bring the toys.”  
JM_

***

„Whom are you texting, Sherlock? Do we have a case?“ John asked looking over at him.  
„I am not sure yet. I will call you if, OK?“ He looked at John who was on his way to the A&E. He nodded.  
„OK, then. See you later, Sherlock! Love you!“ Sherlock smiled his rare genuine smile.  
„Love you, too! Laters!“ His fingers hovered over the mobile waiting for John to leave. When he heard him hopping down the stairs, he finished his text to Jim.

_„I will. Last time.“  
SH_

Sherlock knew John wouldn't be home until late at night. Luckily, he was out watching a rugby game. He packed the bag with Moriarty’s toys and changed into an old tee and a pair of jeans. He even found some old chucks. He wouldn’t ruin his good clothes again. He got the bag with both used and unused toys and hailed a cab.  
He shortly thought about leaving a note for John. But what if he would return earlier as planned? He would burst into their scene and create a problem.  
“No, I do owe him that. I need to explain. I will let him have me once again. And it wasn’t that bad, was it? I loved it! And perhaps he can teach me more things I can impress John with.” He smiled greedily and hailed a cab right outside 221B.  
Sherlock knew he had to see Moriarty again. He had shown him what he liked. He had been right, he owed him big time.  
Sherlock drove to the cemetery and entered the crypt. Moriarty wasn’t there. Some time passed and Sherlock became a bit restless. He knew he did this on purpose but it made him angry nevertheless.  
He lit the candles. Then he sat cross-legged on the sarcophagus and tried to come down. He had to wait another 30 minutes until Moriarty entered the crypt cheerily.  
“Sherlock, there you are!” He just looked up and pouted.  
“You are late!” Moriarty came closer and looked at Sherlock.  
“You look years younger in these clothes. It’s fantastic!” Unconsciously Sherlock moved his palm over his shirt.  
“You think?” Moriarty reached out and stroked over his thigh.  
“Yes, absolutely!” Now he grabbed his thigh and pulled until Sherlock unfolded his long limbs. Sherlock was brave. He knew what was expected and dared to ask:  
“What do you want me to do?” Surprised Moriarty looked up and smiled.  
“Get your tee off. Lay down on the sarcophagus. Hands over your head.” Sherlock obeyed and Moriarty moved to stand behind him. He felt his wrists being crossed and tied. A rope lead to the sarcophagus and was attached to something. His erection pressed against the fabric of his jeans. He pressed his legs together to get some friction.  
“Stop that at once!” He barked his order and Sherlock stilled. Moriarty took the spreader bar out of the bag and attached it to his ankles after he got rid of his socks and chucks. He widened it quite a bit until he heard a moan coming from Sherlock.  
“What would you think, if I would fuck you through a hole I cut into your jeans, Sherlock?” Suddenly he had a knife in his hand and moved it in front of his face. Sherlock swallowed and started to sweat. He also started to leak into his jeans. He did without his boxers and made it easier. So he thought.  
“Answer me properly or I have to punish you!” The singsong voice was back.  
“I would be scared. I would be aroused. I would very much like it. Sir.”  
“Now, the last bit didn’t convince me of your respect, pet. Do it better!”  
“As you wish, Sir!” Sherlock said when Moriarty climbed on the sarcophagus. He rutted against his groin and made him moan.  
“You are such a whore!” He grabbed his jaw. His fingers hit the right nerves and forced Sherlock’s mouth wide open. It hurt and he tried to move away. It didn’t work. Moriarty spit into his mouth and Sherlock’s eyes moved back into his head.  
“What do you say?” He pressed some more.  
“Thank you, Sir!”  
“Very good. But you can do better.”  
“Please give me more! I deserve it! Please, Sir!” Moriarty grinned and spit some more rubbing over his groin all the time. Then he slapped his face several times very hard eliciting very wanton noises. His five fingers showed on his face.  
He moved down and bent up Sherlock’s legs. He pressed the bar down with one arm. He was stronger than Sherlock had expected. The other hand held the knife.  
“Don’t wriggle. Else you suffer the consequences.” Sherlock absolutely stilled when Moriarty started to cut into his jeans between his thighs. It was extremely arousing. He felt him moving about and heard fabric being torn apart.  
“Let’s see how flexible you are, pet! Show me!” He not only pressed down on the bar but moved it all the way over his head. Sherlock’s long limbs were bent back and his arse was completely exposed. His legs were strained and his cock was pressed down by his thigh.  
“Grab the bar, Sherlock!” Sherlock tried to reach it and Moriarty pressed down some more. His long fingers finally took hold of it and at once were tied to it. His muscles were strained and he closed his eyes moaning.  
“You are so good for me, pet!” He slapped his bum several times very hard.  
“Thank you, Sir! You always know what I need, Sir! Please, give me more, Sir!”  
“As you wish, pet!” He jumped off of him and rummaged in the bag. He took a spider gag and buckled it tight. Sherlock gurgled. Then he attached a blindfold, too. Sherlock felt him climb up again. He knelt in front of his behind and his knees touched his thighs. He felt his fingers moving through the fabric and touch his opening. He started to pant.  
Moriarty soon used both index fingers and widened the hole he had cut out. Sherlock could hear him open his trousers. He felt him inching closer and suddenly he felt his hot prick pushing into him. He made rough and barking noises. Moriarty laughed and pinched his nipples. Suddenly Sherlock felt the blade touching his belly. He absolutely stilled. Then he felt the tip of the blade drawing a line over his six-pack. It was a stinging sharp pain and he let out a cry. He heard the blade clutter to the floor and felt his hands on his waist. He fucked him raw and shoved his body up and down the sarcophagus. His back would be bruised and chafed. The pain-pleasure was great. Sherlock drooled and spit flew out of his mouth when he shook his head from side to side.  
“Shut up, pet, or I’ll make you!” He pushed deep inside him again hitting on his prostate. Sherlock howled loudly. Moriarty pulled out and jumped on the ground. He unbuckled the spider-gag and took a huge ball-gag instead. He shoved it behind Sherlock’s teeth and buckled it. His full lips closed around the rubber ball and he deeply groaned. He shivered all over and his legs were trembling. Moriarty could see he was cramping already.  
He undid his wrists from the bar and placed his feet flat on the sarcophagus. He saw him relax and climbed back on. He ducked under the bar and forced himself back in. Now he moved very slowly in and out eliciting low moans and more pleading noises. He raked his nails down his chest and waist making him shout behind his gag. He steadily increased his pace until skin slammed on fabric. Moriarty screamed when he came deep inside Sherlock. Two seconds later Sherlock came, too, only by prostate stimulation and his prick being held tight under his jeans. He soiled his jeans.  
Moriarty laid on top of Sherlock stroking over his chest and nipples. One leg was half on his body and he could feel Sherlock’s hardening prick under this thigh.  
“You are such a wanton slut, my pet. I just made you come and there you are getting hard again.” Sherlock made noises behind his gag when Moriarty opened his jeans and pulled it down. His cock sprang up and he took it in his hand slowly stroking up and down.  
He heard him sob.  
“You could just beg, pet. Perhaps I will give it to you the way you like. Nod, if you want to try.” Sherlock nodded and he unbuckled the ball-gag. Sherlock coughed.  
“I can’t hear you, pet.” He pinched his nipples and Sherlock’s body came up.  
“Please, Sir, please!” He moaned loudly.  
“I need more, Sir, please!”  
“Be specific, pet!” He slapped his thigh.  
“Fuck me again, Sir, please! Restrain me some more! I need the pain, God, please, Sir!” Moriarty quietly laughed.  
“Very good, pet, very good. Let’s see what I can do about it.” He undid the spreader bar and the rope tying him to the sarcophagus. He also undid the blindfold. Sherlock’s eyelids fluttered and his eyes were wide with desire.  
Moriarty pulled him up into a sitting position. His wrists were still tied in front of him. He gave him a bottle of water.  
“Drink, Sherlock, you need it!” He drank the whole bottle.  
“Thank you, Sir.” He undid the rope around his wrists now saying:  
“I want you to kneel on the floor. Hands behind your back.” He did as being told and now his hands were tied to the opposite elbows. More rope lead around his upper body above and under his nipples.  
This time Moriarty had thought of bringing a soft blanket. He undressed until he was fully naked and afterwards got rid of Sherlock’s jeans. He had him straddle him and Sherlock knew what he wanted.  
“Sit on me and fuck yourself, pet! Go on!” Sherlock moved forward and straddled him. He could feel his prick behind him. Moriarty grabbed himself and positioned it right under his hole. He was still wide from before. He got up a bit and slowly sank down. He felt his huge cock move inside and lowered himself further until his balls touched his skin.  
Moriarty once bucked up and he deeply growled and hissed.  
“Move! Ride me! Fast and hard!” He slapped him from below wherever he could reach. Sherlock soon screamed because he started to bite, too. He pushed up and down faster and faster. He would have problems sitting for days, he was sure of that.  
Moriarty took hold of his cock and prevented him from coming. He came deep inside him again and shoved him off. Sherlock fell on his side and just laid there panting and sobbing. He got rolled on his belly and Moriarty plugged him so his cum would stay inside. He whined. It was humiliating. He also felt the urgent need to piss now and he tried to get up.  
“Please, I …”  
“Shut up, slut!” Moriarty pushed him back down and tied his legs at once. He made him kneel again and pulled a rope from his tied wrists down to his ankles. Sherlock had his thighs pressed together but he got slapped in the face rather hard.  
“Spread your fucking knees, slut!” Sherlock sobbed and did spread his knees for him. He felt heavenly aroused but he also needed to pee.  
“Please, I need …” A toe pressed on his bladder and he gasped. He was able to hold it in, but it shot straight into his spine.  
“Does little Sherly need to use the loo? Oh dear, being in a crypt and such. I am afraid, there isn’t a loo for you to use. You just have to hold it until I am done with you.” Sherlock bit his lip because of the humiliation and felt himself getting hot. He must have blushed, too.  
“Oh, you are beautiful like this, Sherlock! How urgent is it? Very urgent? Yes?” Sherlock nodded.  
“Yes, Sir, very urgent. Please? Sir?” He started to tremble. Moriarty knelt by his side and held his prick. He inhaled deeply and moaned. It helped a bit when he was held like this, but then he started to give him a proper hand-job. Now he felt the need to come, too.  
He lowered his head and made very wanton noises. His body shook while Moriarty pressed both on his bladder and his cock. Sherlock straightened and screamed when he came and pissed. His vision was blurry and his brain was fuzzy. He fell to the side right into the puddle of pee and cum. He shivered and breathed open-mouthed. Moriarty turned him around and pressed his face into it.  
“There we go, you little slut. You can’t hold it, Sherly!” He pulled him up by his longish hair and looked into completely dilated pupils. Sherlock grinned and licked his lips slowly. Now Moriarty growled and pressed against him. He kissed him rough and long and when he was done, they both sunk back on the soiled blanket. After some minutes Moriarty started to untie him and when he was done Sherlock pulled him close into an embrace.  
“I want to continue this, James.” He hid his face into his neck.  
“You said something else, Sherlock.”  
“I know, I know. But this is different, I don’t want to lose this.”  
“How about a threesome then?” Sherlock stilled.  
“What would Moran say?”  
“He does what I tell him to do. Just as you do.”  
“Then I have to agree, haven’t I?” He snogged him down then and James let him. He enjoyed this in fact. When Sherlock let go of him, he moved some of his hair off his face.  
“James, you don’t have something I could cover my bum with?” He laughed heartily.  
“You could take my jacket. But I would suggest you have a shower.”  
“Are you suggesting I come with you?”  
“Yes.” He looked into his eyes and Sherlock just shrugged.  
“Fine, let’s go then.” He got up and put his tee back on. He stepped into his shoes and handed James his things. He rolled up the blanket and collected the toys. Finally, Jim handed over his jacket and Sherlock knotted it around his waist.  
James grinned when looking at him. Then he called his driver and they rode home. Sherlock entered after James and looked around curiously. And suddenly there was Sebastian.  
“What is he doing here? Isn’t it enough for you to shag him? Do you have to bring him home? Naked?”  
“I just need to shower.” James pointed the way but didn’t say anything until Sherlock was gone.

***

“Sebastian, don’t be jealous. You have no reason to. It’s different with you.”  
“Really?” Sebastian was a former army Colonel, rough and hard, very muscular, short blond hair, and dark green eyes. But he knew how to handle his consulting criminal. He looked at him and tilted his head pouting.  
“Of course, love.”  
“I know you are having a reason to bring him in.”  
“Of course I do. I am planning on having a threesome.”  
“Really?” Now Sebastian looked interested.  
“Yes, really. Interested?” He grinned.  
“Absolutely. He looks fantastic.”  
“He does, doesn’t he?” Exactly then Sherlock came back only wrapped in a towel.  
“Could I borrow something to dress?” Sebastian stepped up. They were the same height but Sebastian was much more muscled.  
“You have to earn it, Sherlock.” He tilted his head.  
“And how exactly would I have to earn it, Colonel?” Sebastian swallowed.  
“Beg for it. Show me how much you want it!” James in the meanwhile rested his body against the wall and watched them interact.  
Suddenly Sebastian grabbed the towel and ripped it off Sherlock’s body. His eyes lingered and Sherlock got hard. He smiled.  
“You like what you see?” Sebastian licked his lips.  
“Oh, yes! Now show me how much you want to get dressed!” Sherlock approached him and wrapped his naked body around him. He snogged him senseless. While they were groping and kissing, James moved them into the bedroom and on the large bed. He undressed and got behind Sherlock. He looked at Sebastian and just nodded. Then James took over and grabbed Sherlock’s wrists holding them at this lower back. Sebastian touched his naked body.  
James started to push his cock into Sherlock again making him moan. Sebastian knelt beside his head and started to rub his prick. Then he just grabbed a fistful of Sherlock’s curls.  
“Open your mouth, slut!” Sherlock pressed his lips together and Sebastian moved his leaking cock over them. He closed his nose and Sherlock tried to breathe through his teeth. James bit hard into his shoulder making him scream and open wide. He almost choked when Sebastian shoved his prick deep into his mouth. Being in this position he could just swallow around the head when Sebastian pushed deep into him or suckle his head and lick his slit when Sebastian pulled back again moaning.  
James fucked him relentlessly into the mattress touching his prostate with every single hit. Above him Sebastian slapped his prick into his face and left a trace of cum on his cheekbones.  
“Don’t you dare and come, Sherlock! Not until I tell you to!” James whispered into his ear. Sherlock whimpered. He was so close; he could barely hold back.  
Then Sebastian came hard and spurted all over Sherlock’s face and hair.  
“Clean it!” Sherlock was pulled up and James let go of his wrists. Instead he held his prick. Sherlock shivered when taking Sebastian into his mouth. He licked every single drop of cum off his cock. His own was throbbing with lust and desire. When he was done, he looked at both James and Sebastian.  
“Did I just earn my tee?” He grinned. Sebastian tilted his head.  
“Yes. It was worth a tee. But nothing more.” Then he looked at James as if to ask how to proceed.  
“Sherlock likes to play, doesn’t he? He also loves to be restrained strictly, right? He also gets off on humiliation.”  
“Sounds like fun!” Sebastian clapped his hands together and threw himself on Sherlock. They rolled over the bed until he had Sherlock underneath. He tied his wrists. His arms followed suit. He pulled him up on his knees and led a rope from his wrists between his cheeks and around his scrotum and prick. Sherlock wailed.  
“Oh, shut it, Sherly!” James said and shoved a ball-gag between his still swollen lips. Sherlock shook his head but Sebastian pulled the rope and he stilled.  
“You better behave, slut!” James added and attached some nipple clamps making him howl and sob. He drooled and snot ran out of his nose.  
Sebastian tied his ankles and knees and made a perfect hog-tie. James knew how much he could take. When they were done, they both looked at him.  
“Adorable, isn’t he?” James said. Sebastian tilted his head.  
“So am I!” He crossed his strong arms in front of his chest.  
“You don’t have to be jealous, Sebby! Come here!” James kissed him while Sherlock rutted on the mattress.  
“He is very restless, isn’t he? He gets bored quickly …” Sebastian mused.  
“Let’s help him!” He rolled him on his side and slapped him hard.  
“Stay! Don’t you rut, slut!” Sherlock didn’t. James walked into their kitchen and returned with a ginger root already pealing it and carving it into a nice and huge plug. Sherlock’s eyes became wide and he wildly shook his head. He also made noises.  
Sebastian tied off the hog-tie but pulled him off the bed with his knees on the hardwood floor. He held him down spreading his cheeks. James pushed it inside. Sherlock tried very hard not to clench but when Sebastian started to spank him, he involuntarily clenched and the ginger oil got out. Soon he started to twitch and cry. He begged behind his gag but both of them just watched getting hard. Sebastian pushed him down on the floor.  
“I think he just earned his jeans, don’t you, Jimmy?” James nodded.  
“Yes, let’s not be too cruel. He is supposed to come back and play with us. Let’s play nice now. Get him off, Sebby!” Sebastian smiled and threw Sherlock back on the bed. He untied him and pulled out the ginger root. He also got rid of the ball-gag.  
Sherlock was panting and crying.  
“Water, please!” He throatily begged. Sebastian held him against his chest and gave him a glass of water. And then another.  
“Drink slowly, Sherlock.” Sherlock held the glass and rested his body against Sebastian. His eyes were closed and he really needed to cum. His cock was rock-hard and he had been held back for a long time. Sebastian took the glass and kissed him.  
“Relax, Sherlock. I will make it up to you!” He started to stroke him gently and laid him back on the duvet. Sebastian could see he was done. As much as his big brain told him to go on and gather more data his body was totally exhausted. Sebastian looked up at Jim for permission to proceed. He just nodded and left the bedroom. Sebastian heard the bathroom door close and then the shower. He looked down at Sherlock and smiled. He stroked his palms over his chest and traced the line Jim had sliced over his six-pack with his finger. He made him moan.  
Then he fisted his prick and stroked up and down thumbing the head. Sherlock was panting and pleadingly looked up. Sebastian straddled him and positioned himself. Slowly he sank down and Sherlock’s hands tried to reach up. Sebastian entwined their fingers and started to move up and down clenching around Sherlock’s prick. He bucked up pushing back and holding on to Sebastian for dear life. And then he came violently. Sebastian came seconds later spurting all over his face and chest. Both of them smiled like mad. Sebastian got up and pulled Sherlock with him. He kissed him and Sherlock let him. He had had no idea that he would like this man that much.  
“Sebby, get him whatever he needs, I have to go!” Sebastian at once broke the kiss and hurried outside.  
“James, where are you going?”  
“Business to do. Nothing dangerous, I won't need you. Don't worry. Have some more fun! Laters!” James blew him a kiss and was gone. Sherlock slowly came out of the bedroom and walked up to the bathroom. They smiled at each other and Sebastian decided they could have dinner now. He climbed into some fatigues and prepared some pasta. He opened a bottle of wine and poured them a drink. When Sherlock came back out, he placed him into an armchair. He thankfully took the drink.  
“Thank you.”  
“Are you OK?” He nodded.  
“Yes, I am just terribly hungry and I want to go home afterwards. That OK for you?”  
“Of course. I have cooked dinner for us. Get dressed and join me at the counter. I laid out clothes for you.” Sherlock shuffled back into the bedroom and found a pair of jeans and a tee from Sebastian. The trousers were rather loose on his thin frame but he found a belt. The same with the tee but they were fresh. He felt much better now and followed the smell of pasta and salmon into the kitchen.  
“That smells delicious.” He sat on a barstool and watched Sebastian cook.  
“Here, have another wine. I also found your other stuff in the duffle you brought back.” He placed his mobile and wallet on the counter. He checked his mobile. Several missed calls and some texts. First only from John and later from Mycroft, too. He must have called him. He sighed and texted back. So at first he replied John's texts.

_“I have been on a case. Don't worry. I'll be home soon.”  
SH_

He sipped his wine and read his brother's texts.

_“I know exactly what you have done and where you are right now. How's the pasta?”  
MH_

_“No idea yet, I've only tasted the cook so far.”  
SH_

_“We have to talk, brother-mine.”  
MH_

_“If you wish.”  
SH_

“You are texting as much as Jim.” Sebastian was looking at him.  
“Am I? I just prefer to text.” Sherlock shrugged.  
“What are you going to tell your flatmate?”  
“I have no bloody idea.”  
“Does he know about James?”  
“I told him after my first encounter and we are having the sex since then. I haven't told him I went today to see him again.”  
“So I see. No wonder he is worried now.”  
“He won't understand.”  
“He won't leave you.” They looked at each other and Sebastian placed the food on the counter.  
“Eat something, Sherlock. You need it.” And Sherlock devoured everything. He had some more wine and afterwards another drink.  
“Thanks a lot, Sebastian. For everything.”  
“No problem, again any time.”  
“Could you hail a cab for me, please?”  
“I will take you home myself.”  
“You drank.”  
“Not much, trust me.” Sherlock shrugged and put his chucks back on. He followed Sebastian into the garage and sat inside the sports car.  
“This is nice.” Sherlock checked the interior and stereo touching everything very carefully.  
“James gave it to me after our second year.”  
“Really? That's rather unexpected.”  
“He gave me a bike after our first.”  
“First year?”  
“First night.” They laughed and Sebastian drove off. He dropped Sherlock in front of 221B Baker Street being aware of the sleek, black car in front of Speedy's. Sherlock just touched his thigh and smiled. Then he got out and bumped almost into Mycroft.  
“What do you think you are doing, brother-mine?” He was angry beyond everything.  
“I am having fun.”  
“These are not your clothes.” He shook his head.  
“No.”  
“Do you know what you are doing to John?”  
“I told him I was on a case.”  
“You are lying to him because of Moriarty and his associate.”  
“I have told him about Moriarty.”  
“You have told him about your first time with him. Not about this.” Sebastian drove by and honked. Mycroft made a rude gesture which was absolutely atypical for him. Sherlock gaped at him.  
“What?”  
“John loves you, Sherlock. You are making him sad.” Mycroft said.  
“I love him, too. This was just … I don't know what it was.” Sherlock shrugged but felt awkward. He didn't want John to be sad.  
“You would do anything to not be bored. Believe me, I understand. You have to try and explain yourself to John.” Sherlock swallowed.  
“You are right, Mycroft.” Slowly Mycroft reached out for his brother.  
“I was worried about you.” Sherlock smiled.  
“I know and I am grateful for the fact you are.” Mycroft was surprised and it showed. They parted without further words. Sherlock watched his car turn around the corner at Regent's Park. Then he sighed and looked up at their window. The light was on so John was home. Sherlock shivered. It was cold and dark by now. And John had been waiting for him.  
He opened the door and climbed up the stairs. He heard him move around and the telly was on. He also smelled food. He entered and hung up his coat by the door. He was well aware of the fact that he still wore Sebastian's tee.  
“John?” He called out and moved some steps into the flat. Then there suddenly was John. An angry John stormed up to him and just backhanded him with force. Sherlock’s head flew to the side and his skin burnt.  
He stayed where he was and looked at John.  
“I deserve much more than this and I know it. What I did is hard to understand but I try to explain myself.” John stared at him and said nothing. But he didn't turn away.  
“I believed that Moriarty did deserve a last time with me. He showed me everything and I owe him. Owed. I let him rough me up and fuck me. Again. And it was amazing. I wasn't able to control myself. He offered to take me to his place so I could shower. Colonel Moran was there and then there was more sex. And I liked it very much.” He slowly went onto his knees and held out his hands begging.  
“John, I don't know what is wrong with me. I couldn't stop and I didn't want to stop. I wanted them to treat me like they did. Please help me. Please forgive me. I love you. I don't want to lose you. I do love you. Love you.” His voice faded away but he still held out his hands even though he had cast his eyes.  
John still stared at him but had calmed down by now. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a second. Only then he took Sherlock’s hands and made him look up again. He saw the love and hope in his eyes. John cleared his throat.  
“I will always give you what you need. I will take care of you. Always. I love you, Sherlock. So I forgive you.” Sherlock once sobbed and broke into tears. His body shook and he slowly crept closer on his knees.  
John made a few steps backwards until his legs bumped against his armchair. He sat down and spread his legs. Sherlock knelt between his legs and finally pressed his head against his chest. John let him rest there until his crying had stopped and he only kept sobbing once in a while.  
Sherlock’s hands were fisted into his jumper by now and his body was in contact with John's wherever possible.  
“Sherlock, have you been eating?” He shook his head yes and his voice was rough when answering.  
“Yes, I have. Sebastian made sure of that.” John nodded being rather surprised.  
“Well, OK then. I will make you a drink. Get up and shower. And get rid of that shirt. I don't want to see it again.”  
“Yes, John. Thank you, John.” Sherlock slowly stood and with a last longing look disappeared into the bath. John sighed shaking his head. He got up and walked into the kitchen to prepare something for dinner. He also lit a fire and placed the plate with the sandwiches down there.  
Sherlock returned dressed in pyjamas and a long-sleeved tee. He carried Sebastian's and clearly had had the same idea. He threw the shirt into the fire. Both men looked for a few seconds and then he sat by John's side and watched him devour the sandwiches.  
When John was done, he looked at him.  
“I accept whatever punishment you think is right for me.” John just shook his head.  
“No, Sherlock. This is not a game. This is our life. I don't want our sex-games come into our lives. I don't want to be a dom and do this 24/7.” Sherlock just looked at him.  
“I don't understand.” He looked clueless.  
“I can only offer to keep you busy. I will give you a fulfilled sex-life. I won't ever punish you for things you do that are related to your normal life. What do you think?”  
“I will try to do it right. I am so thankful.” John nodded.  
“OK. I have talked to Lestrade. He agreed to let you on more cases. He also agreed to bring you cold cases.” Now Sherlock looked up sounding much more awake somehow.  
“Really?” John nodded.  
“Yes, really.” Sherlock’s body straightened and he looked expectantly.  
“I like that. It's good.” He licked his lips.  
“What did you have to give him to get the promise?” John raised his brow.  
“Nothing. He is my friend. He is your friend, too.” Sherlock looked surprised and didn't know what to say.  
“I also believe it might be nice doing some of your brother's leg-work now and again.” Sherlock wanted to talk-back but John just raised his brow.  
“OK.” He agreed.  
“Your brother was very worried, too. We talked. So just please.” Sherlock dutifully nodded. Then John looked at his watch and slowly stood.  
“I will take a shower now since I have a shift starting in two hours’ time. Please behave while I am gone. If anything bothers you, call me. Do you hear me?” Sherlock nodded and stayed where he was.

***

When John returned from his shift, he found Sherlock on his bed cuffed to a post. He was a shivering mess and his body was twitching. John found the key to the cuffs on the floor where Sherlock wasn't able to reach it. He must have thrown it there. John picked it up and sat on the bed by his side. He was able to smell his odour. He was sweating. He was also dressed as if wanting to leave.  
“Sherlock, love, what happened?” Sherlock panted.  
“He sent me a text. I was like on auto-pilot. I showered and got dressed. I was halfway out the door when I stopped. I cuffed myself to my bed and threw the key away. I waited for you. John, I didn't know what to do.” He sounded desperate.  
John looked at his wrist. It was chafed and sore.  
“I am here now. And I will play with you now. Do you consent?” Sherlock quickly nodded.  
“I can't hear you, Sherlock.” John whispered.  
“Yes, Sir. I consent, Sir.” He answered loud and clear. John nodded.  
“Very good.” John used the key and stood by the bed.  
“Undress and wash up. Make it quick. Stay naked and come to me when you are done.”  
“Yes, Sir.” John left the bedroom and poured a drink. He listened to Sherlock move. He heard his clothes rustle and then the water in the bathroom. He stood in front of their window sipping his drink and heard Sherlock approach.  
Slowly he turned around and looked at him. He stood there all naked and very, very self-conscious. John didn't move but spoke.  
“Stay.” Sherlock bowed his head.  
“Yes, Sir.” John went and brought back some ropes and other stuff Sherlock wasn't able to identify. He tied his arms above the elbows and his wrists so his shoulders were forced back and his chest stood out.  
“Kneel.” Sherlock dropped down on his knees.  
“Yes, Sir.” John took a head-harness and buckled it tight. There was a ball-gag attached to it and it forced his mouth wide open forming an obscene circle around it. He quickly started to drool. John fastened the stripe under his chin, too, so he couldn't move his jaw. Everything sat very tight when John was done with it.  
“Get up.” John looked at Sherlock’s cock and it was half-hard. John shook his head and pulled his balls once. Sherlock was panting when John shoved a cock-ring over and tied his balls in the middle, too. Next came the nipple-clamps and the screwed them tight, too. There were tears in Sherlock’s eyes by now but he never safe-worded.  
“Look at me.” Their eyes met. Sherlock drooled.  
“I want you think about everything very thorough. You will be kneeling in the corner over there which will be your corner from now on. This is not a punishment for your actions. This is part of our play where I want you to think about your actions. Do you understand the difference?” Sherlock dutifully nodded.  
“Very well. Chest down.” Sherlock carefully lowered his body until his forehead touched the hardwood. John slicked up a butt-plug and parted his cheeks. He didn't need any preparation and John forced the thing into him until only the handle was seen. It had stripes, too, and they came around his thighs. Then John pumped it up until Sherlock was stuffed to the fullest. It gave him nothing. It simply hurt and he groaned.  
Only then he pulled him up and made him move into the corner. He pressed once on his shoulder and Sherlock knelt facing the wall.  
“You won't sit on your heels. You will stay like this. Head up. Think it through. Whenever I deem you are ready, I will tell you so. If you need to piss, alert me. Alert me for nothing else. Did you hear me?” Sherlock nodded facing the wall.  
John turned around to sit in his armchair. Every fifteen minutes he turned and looked at him but he stayed in position. John wondered how long he would need.  
After four hours he started to shake. After five hours he had shuffled forward to lean his forehead against the wall. But since he was still upright John didn't correct him. Sherlock's body fell to the side in the seventh hour. He was starting to cry at once and tried to get up. His moves were desperate but he wasn't able to get on his knees again.  
John slowly got up and walked over. He went on his knees and started to free him.  
“Whenever will you learn to know when it is enough?” John asked and pulled off the harness with the ball-gag. The edges of his mouth were torn and his jaw cracked. He tried to speak but John pressed a finger on his lips.  
“No.” He rolled him on his side and extracted the plug. Sherlock roughly groaned and coughed. He pulled him up and leant him against the wall. He handed him a bottle.  
“Drink.” He needed both hands to hold it up but he drank. Only then John pulled him up and carried him into bed.  
“Sleep.” Sherlock wanted to beg him to stay but he couldn't. The moment his body hit the soft mattress and the blanket was on top of him he fell asleep.  
John looked at him. Only then he got ready for bed, too. He pulled his body close and held him.


	5. Real Life

Sherlock needed several months to get his control back. He never saw James Moriarty or Colonel Moran again. He several times tried to after having gotten texts but every time he was stopped by John.

Mycroft had given John some monitoring device for Sherlock's mobile so he always knew what was going on. He never interfered with his cases though. Only when it came to Moriarty and Moran he went into action.  
Sometimes Sherlock alerted him all by himself and asked for his help. Asked to stop him, rein him in.

Now everything was just fine. It had stopped. Sherlock only hungered for John now. But he was still thankful for the experience James Moriarty had given him.

Sherlock solved every single case Lestrade gave him. He also saved several cold cases when he found the time. And he even did some leg-work for his brother.

Everybody thanked John for being with Sherlock.

John rather often made him think in his corner. Sometimes he was severely tied up and sometimes not. It depended on the topic John wanted him to think about.  
Sherlock always accepted his corner time. It had made his life much better. And not only his.


End file.
